


Aqua Vitae

by St_Salieri



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-01
Updated: 2006-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Salieri/pseuds/St_Salieri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike and Buffy have to save the world.  Must be Tuesday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aqua Vitae

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://monanotlisa.livejournal.com/profile)[**monanotlisa**](http://monanotlisa.livejournal.com/) , written for [](http://awmp.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://awmp.livejournal.com/)**awmp** 's Snarkathon. Takes place during S6 between _Doublemeat Palace_ and _Dead Things_. Here were Mona's prompts:
> 
>  **A keyword/ situation/ line you want to see:** the Espresso Pump  
>  **Three other requests for your fic:** pre-Chosen, a reference to Spike's past in Europe, a Willow line  
>  **Up to three restrictions for your fic:** no schmoop, no baby!fic, no clichés.  
>  **Rating preference:** AHAP (as high as possible)

 

 _A woman drove me to drink, and I didn't even have the decency to thank her._ \-- W.C. Fields

 

There had been many times in the past when Spike regretted not having a lock for his door. Not that a lock would do much against the various beasties that insisted on breaking into his crypt at all hours, but that wasn't the point. It was the principle of the matter. Still, he'd gotten used to receiving unexpected visits from anyone who took a fancy, from drunk Grochlar beasts to Initiative wankers to random Scoobies. It got so that a man couldn't enjoy his death in peace anymore.

Of course, when the person kicking open his door was a certain Slayer in need of a bit of attention, he wasn't about to complain.

"Spike?" he heard. He smiled and took another sip of his beer, but said nothing. Let her look for him a bit. "Spike?" she said again. "Are you here?" He could hear the sound of her boots on the floor as she crossed the room, and he set his beer on the floor just as she walked into view. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he settled back in his armchair and nodded politely.

"Slayer. Looking for me?"

She really was beautiful when she was embarrassed -- eyes wide, nose slightly pink, lips pursed tightly together. She gave him a quick once-over and very deliberately looked away. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did I interrupt something?"

He had to give her credit. She was trying for calm, but he hadn't missed how her eyes dilated or the way she had to clear her throat before speaking.

"Not at all," he assured her. "Just waiting for you. Why would you say that?"

She glanced back at him, giving him a look that clearly told him she thought he was being an idiot. "Spike?" she said sweetly. "You're naked."

"That I am," he agreed. He leaned over the edge of his chair and grabbed for his bottle with one hand, continuing to fondle himself with the other. "The way I see it," he said, taking a long sip, "we were going to get here anyway. I figured I'd just get a head start." He squeezed himself and gave her his best leer. She wasn't even pretending to look away now. "Don't try to hide it, Buffy. I know you like what you see. I can tell."

"That would be the disgust," she said flatly. "I can see how you'd get confused."

"Mmmm," he purred, giving himself a long stroke and letting out a full body shiver. He squirmed slightly on the chair and watched her eyes darken with lust. "You're thinking about what this would feel like in your hands."

"No," she said absently, eyes firmly fixed on his moving hand. "I'm thinking about how I'm never going to sit in that chair again."

And then she was moving forward slowly, in uneven steps, and he froze lest she notice what she was doing and stop. When she reached down and touched him with the tip of one finger, he couldn't help shuddering. She fondled him lightly, slowly, touching him as gently as a warm breeze, but when he reached for the hem of her shirt she stepped back and shook her head.

"No."

He could do nothing but watch -- watch her thin fingers play lightly with his cock, watch the dark hollows under her eyes, watch the way her muscles flexed as her arm moved. She was studying him with a slight frown, as if he was a brand new specimen of monster in one of her Watcher's books. Finally Spike couldn't take it anymore and hauled her into his lap for a kiss. She gave a gasp and squirm before settling herself, her legs straddling his and her covered thighs rubbing his bare skin. Her mouth was warm and soft under his, and he could taste the salt of her sweat. As she reached one hand down to fondle and squeeze his erection again, he ran his hands over her back and the curves of her ass. She sighed into his mouth, giving him a series of light, open-mouthed kisses that mimicked her light touch on his cock. He rocked his hips under hers, begging for a firmer touch, but she continued with the light pace until he was gasping and pinching her ass.

"Come on, Slayer," he growled. "Do it."

Finally, _finally_ she took hold of him tightly and began to stroke in earnest. She pulled away to watch, that little frown of concentration back, and Spike was more aware than ever of the fact that she had yet to remove a single piece of clothing. And then he couldn't think of anything else, not while her hands were so tight around him. He rocked her on his lap in time with his thrusts, breathing through clenched teeth to take in the humid pulse of her skin. When she leaned forward and took his earlobe between her teeth, he gasped and spilled himself into her hands.

Buffy pressed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before leaning over to snag the t-shirt he'd left on the floor, wiping her hands and giving him a few preliminary swipes before he grabbed the shirt and threw it away. She resisted slightly when he pulled her down to lie against him, but finally gave up and collapsed bonelessly against his chest.

"Hi there, honey," Spike said in a falsetto. "Did you have a nice day at the office?"

When she laughed, he felt the shaking all the way down into his bones. "It sucked," she said flatly. "My feet hurt, I have grease in every possible orifice, and I think the guy who works the grill is really a werewolf. That amount of body hair is just _not_ normal."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Spike said, working his hands up and down her back to try and ease the stiff muscles. "I have just the tool for working out all your little...kinks."

Buffy groaned and buried her face against his chest. "I've seen your tool, thanks," she said dryly. "I think he's out of commission for the moment."

Spike shrugged. "Give us a minute and we'll be up for the challenge. In the meantime..." -- he swept her hair back and dropped a kiss on her forehead -- "...you're wearing too many clothes." He started to pull up her shirt, but she straightened up with a sigh and smacked his hands away.

"Clothes stay on, mister," she said, and he shrugged again.

"If you say so, but it'll be better without them." He snuck in a quick grab to her breasts, and she let him for a moment before pushing him away.

"That's not what I meant," she said. "I can't stay. Willow's got her group thing tonight, and I want to make sure someone's there for Dawn. I just wanted to, you know. Stop by." She gave a lopsided smile, and he was struck by how tired she sounded. "I actually didn't plan on doing this tonight, but there you were, all with the naked."

"For which I'm very grateful," he assured her. "And I'd be even more grateful if you'd let me return the favor." She started to shake her head and climb out of his lap, but he held her tightly to him. "Don't," he whispered. "Just...please. I'll be quick. Let me take care of you."

Her body tensed in a fight-or-flight response, and his fingers loosened in preparation for her abrupt departure. He couldn't hide his surprise when she slowly settled back down against him.

"Okay," she whispered in return, glancing at him before looking away. "Quickly."

Tonight she was like an untried girl in his arms, nervous and responsive. He touched her over her clothing, clutching her back, nuzzling her face, cupping her breasts and rubbing his thumbs over the nipples while she sighed. She began to rock against him, rubbing herself against his thigh and looking everywhere but at his face. They made out like teenagers, kissing wetly and grasping hands. She made a mewling noise when he finally unzipped her jeans and snuck one hand down inside her underwear. It was the only part of her naked flesh he had touched, and he almost sang at the contact. Her fingers were hot when they reached down to grasp his wrist, moving his hand where she needed him most. He entered her shallowly, rubbing his palm against her clit while she grunted into his mouth. When she came, he could feel the way her flesh fluttered around the tips of his fingers.

"Hmmm," she hummed. "That was good."

"It was," Spike agreed. His wrist was cramped where it was still tucked down inside her jeans, but he didn't care. She was warm and loose against him, and he tightened his other arm around her. She raised her head to blink at him, and he caught her mouth in a gentle kiss.

"Well, I can see I've come at a bad time," a deep voice said.

Spike felt Buffy jerk away from him and jump to her feet, taking his hand with her. He yelped and retrieved his fingers from inside her pants, clambering stiffly out of the chair to face the intruder. Buffy had quickly done up her jeans and produced a stake from nowhere -- and where in the hell did she hide those things anyway? He had to satisfy himself with the beer bottle as his only weapon.

"Christ," he muttered, "doesn't _anyone_ in this wretched town know how to knock?"

Their visitor stood at least seven feet tall, and he was slightly hunched as if from a lifetime habit of preemptive stooping. He was vaguely human shaped -- mouth, nose, two eyes in more or less the right place -- and could probably have been mistaken for a remarkably tall one if it wasn't for his deep purple skin. Oh, and the seven fingers on each hand.

"I've got it," Buffy hissed, and Spike snorted.

"My house, my rules. I've got first dibs on any violence to be done."

Buffy merely raised her eyebrows and nodded downward, and Spike looked down at his lack of pants and wilted slightly. Damn.

"That won't be necessary," the creature said, but Buffy raised her stake and stepped forward. She looked absolutely adorable in comparison to the hulking demon, not that Spike would ever tell her that. He folded his arms across his chest and smiled in satisfaction. Oh yeah, this would be good. The only thing better than fighting himself was watching her go at it.

"Oh, I think it's completely necessary," Buffy said. "And, hey! If you want to be helpful, you can tell me where to hit you. I'd like to make this as quick as possible, if you don't mind. Things to do, people to see."

The demon took a step back and glanced over at Spike. "Spike, can you call off your girl? I need your help, and you owe me."

"I am _not_ his..." Buffy started, but Spike interrupted her.

"Wait a moment.... _Gus_?" Wow, maybe orgasms really did make you blind. Of course, the last time he'd seen Gus the guy had been green instead of purple. "It's been decades. How've you been?"

Buffy whirled on him. "You know him?" She rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised." Turning back to Gus, she eyed him critically. "I hate to tell you, but I'll have to kill you anyway. No offense. It's sort of my job."

Gus held up his hands in surrender. "None of that, Slayer. I need you too. You see...I have to save the world."

**********

The argument lasted until the gates of the cemetery.

"Why should I trust him?" Buffy hissed. She wove among the few remaining tombstones at the end of the green, casting a quick glance backward at the hulking demon following close behind them. "Just because you know him? Because, I have to say, that's not exactly a huge entry in the plus column."

"What, Gus?" Spike answered, keeping up with her brisk steps easily. "He's all right. A little obsessive at times, but not a bad guy once you get to know him."

"You do know I can hear you, right?" Gus asked.

Buffy ignored him. "Forgive me if I'm a little suspicious," she said dryly. She looked over at Spike. "How do you two know each other anyway?"

"Madrid," Spike answered. "Late thirties, if I recall. There was a war on." He grinned and exchanged a glance with Gus. "Do you remember that little bombed-out cafe on the east side?"

"The one run by that Brachen demon?" Gus rumbled. "The gun-runner? How could I ever forget?" 

"That's the one," Spike agreed, sighing in satisfaction. "Ah, those were the days. Fighting when you wanted it, drinking when you didn't, and plenty to eat. Nobody bothered with a few humans going missing now and then." He glanced over at Buffy to see that she was looking a little ill, and he coughed penitently. "I mean, it was bad. Absolutely dreadful."

"Whatever," Buffy said with a wince. "Get on with it."

"Not much to tell," Spike shrugged. "It was the high life for the local demon population. One night Dru and I got caught in a bit of a tough place with sunlight on the way, and Gus helped us out. We left for Berlin that night, which turned out not to be so much fun, and I haven't seen Gus since." He frowned. "Come to think of it, your color's a bit different than I remember. What's with the purple?"

"I could ask the same thing," Gus said. "What's with the hair?"

"What can I say? I got bored."

"And stuck in the seventies," Buffy muttered, but Spike could tell she was trying not to smile. He rolled his eyes and kicked a rock at her, which she easily evaded.

"I guess it was the same for me," Gus said. "Like the song says, it's not easy being green."

"He's a Haldar," Spike explained to Buffy. "Chameleon-like, the lot of them."

"And you're here to save the world," Buffy said flatly.

"I am," Gus answered with a grave nod.

Buffy heaved a sigh and exchanged a glance with Spike. It was about one part _how well can I trust him?_ and two parts _do you know how badly I'll hurt you if I'm being played?_. "Okay," she said slowly, digging in her pocket for her phone. "I'll call Willow. I'll have them meet us at the Magic Box."

**********

The front door of the shop was unlocked, and the bell jangled as they went in. Dawn was slumped at the large table in the back of the room, a messy stack of books in front of her. Willow was pacing back and forth, rubbing her hands together nervously. She looked relieved when Buffy came in.

"Hi!" she said. "You're here. Here is good. And...you brought Spike. And a purple guy?" Gus gave a small wave, and Willow smiled weakly. She pulled Buffy aside and spoke urgently to her. Spike thought about pretending that he couldn't hear her, but he honestly didn't care that much.

"Look, I'm sorry you had to miss your group," Buffy was saying quietly, "but this could be pretty important."

Willow nodded. "No, it's okay. It's just...being here. It's still hard."

"Oh," Buffy said, looking around the piles of books and stacks of herbs and unguents. "God, Wills, I'm sorry. I didn't think.....Do you need to go somewhere else?"

"I'm fine," Willow insisted. "It's better when you're here." 

Buffy smiled and squeezed her hand. "Where'd Xander and Anya go?"

"They left right before you got here. Something about a meeting a wedding planner who was only going to be in this dimension for two hours."

"That's gotta be fun," Buffy said with a raised eyebrow, and Willow grinned ruefully in return. "Hey, Dawn," she added brightly. "Did you get all of your homework done for tomorrow?"

Dawn stared at her as if she had grown two heads. "It's Friday," she said slowly, and Buffy's smile faded.

"Oh," she said quietly, biting her lip. Something in Spike's gut twisted, and he cleared his throat obtrusively.

"Look," he said loudly, "not that all of this isn't fascinating, but we've got a bit of a problem here."

"Right," Buffy said briskly. "Everyone, this is Gus. Gus is a Haldar. He says he's here to save the world, and he needs our help." Willow nodded, and Dawn looked up and waved a couple of fingers. "So, Gus. What's the what?"

Gus walked over to the table and settled down comfortably, propping his massive feet up one of the chairs. "In order to understand what's going on, you have to understand something of the history of my people. You see, about a hundred years ago the most important clans divided themselves into two rival factions. The stronger of the two..."

"Fifty words or less," Buffy interrupted, leaning against the front counter. "You're worse than Giles."

"Better hurry up and do what she says," Spike said with a grin. "You wouldn't like her when she's angry."

Gus gave an easy smile in return, showing all of his teeth. "Well, if you hadn't spent so much time trying to find your pants...."

"Now, these two factions...wait, huh?" Willow looked up and blinked, and Buffy blushed furiously.

"Pants-eating demon," she stammered. "Long, very boring story. Go on, Gus." Spike leaned against the counter next to her, and she gave him a swift kick to the shins when no one was looking. He responded by reaching back and pinching her ass, making her gasp, jump and shoot him a furious glance. Spike grinned again. Oh, yeah. He'd pay for that one later, and he'd enjoy every minute of it.

Gus eyed the two of them and shook his head slightly. "For the past century," he continued, "these two factions have been fighting over control of the Water of Life, a fluid with important metaphysical properties."

"Huh," Willow said, digging through the pile of books and unearthing a large volume. "I think I've heard of that."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Spike said. "Just about every sect, cabal or society has something they call the Water of Life. I once knew one group of vampires that made up their own religion based entirely around the supposed mystical powers of whiskey."

"Somehow that doesn't shock me as much as it should," Buffy said.

"Well, _I'd_ go to church if that was the case," Dawn mumbled, then smirked at Buffy's look of horror. "Kidding!"

"Ever since its discovery, the Water of Life has been of the utmost importance to the spiritual life of my species," Gus said. "It contains properties that enhance concentration, heighten awareness and open the doors to other dimensions."

"Kind of like peyote in Native American rituals?" Willow asked, scribbling notes on a piece of paper. Gus nodded.

"Similar, but the effects of the Water of Life are more powerful and longer lasting. There's also the problem of it being highly addictive. When it's not used properly as part of a ritual, it has some pretty devastating effects: increased paranoia, lack of control, sometimes death. The two factions originally split when a small group of rebels tried to control access to the Water of Life. They don't care about the dangers, and they're not interested in using it properly. They just want power, and at this point most of them have used so much of the fluid that they don't even realize the danger they're in."

"Wait, are you trying to get us involved in some kind of religious fight?" Buffy asked Gus. "Because...no way."

"It's not that simple," Gus said. "Normally we would never involve outsiders in our problems, but a group of the rebels recently migrated here. The presence of an active Hellmouth combined with that much mystical energy...."

"Town go boom?" Willow asked.

"Town go boom," Gus confirmed. "And not just the town. You see, the Water of Life is inert in its pure form. Most humans can do no more than faintly sense its power. When it's ingested by a Haldar, however, its metaphysical properties become apparent. When you have a group of addicted Haldar drinking large amounts in the vicinity of a Hellmouth, the results can be catastrophic. At the very least, this town would be an total loss. It's entirely possible that the results would be much more widespread."

"Let me get this straight," Buffy said. "You want us to take on some crazed sect members who might end up destroying the entire town? How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know this isn't some scam to get us involved in a family fight?" She turned to Willow. "Anything about the Haldar in there?"

Willow leafed through the book and shook her head. "Nothing conclusive," she admitted. "Which doesn't mean all that much. After all, we all know how many holes these books have in them, and I'm not really the expert researcher."

Buffy blew out a long breath and regarded Gus intently for a moment. "Okay," she finally said. "We're doing this. Gus, you know where these guys are?" He nodded. "Good. You and Spike are with me. Willow, I want you and Dawn to follow us just long enough to scope out the lay of the land. Then I want you to take Dawn and get out of here. Do what you can to get as far away as possible, just in case something goes wrong." Dawn opened her mouth, and Buffy shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "This could be dangerous, and I want you safe."

"Maybe I can help..." Willow started, but Buffy shook her head again.

"Not like this," she said. "This will be a physical fight. No magic. You can help by taking care of Dawn." She folded her arms across her chest and looked around at the group. "Any questions? Good. The weapons are in the back room. Everyone suit up."

She turned and headed for the training room without a backward glance, and Spike followed with a barely concealed grin. Buffy-in-charge was probably his favorite incarnation of the Slayer, and with her running the show...it was going to be a hell of ride.

**********

Buffy led the group out through the back door of the shop and hefted a broadsword over one shoulder.

"Okay," she said briskly. "Gus, you need to show me where to go, so I want you up here with me." She nodded at the heavy axe Spike was holding. "Spike, you bring up the rear. Okay?" Without another word she turned and headed for the mouth of the alley, weaving around empty packing crates and bits of garbage. Gus held back a moment and watched her go.

"She's really something," he mused.

"That she is," Spike said proudly, watching her determined stride with satisfaction. She impatiently kicked aside a rusted piece of chain-link fence, waving Willow and Dawn through the opening, then looked up to catch Spike's eyes. She gave him a raised-eyebrow _are you coming?_ look and smiled grimly at his nod. "That's my girl," Spike said softly. He suddenly became aware that Gus was staring at him curiously. "What?"

Gus held up his hands defensively. "Hey, it's none of my business, but...Spike, a Slayer? Is there something here in the water I should know about before we go any further?"

Spike shrugged, kicking at a spare piece of trash. "Nothing like that. And it's a long story, so back off."

"Like I said, not my business. And she seems like quite a girl, not that I've ever known any Slayers up close and personal." He squinted at Spike and smiled. "I guess that's your department."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Look, is it my fault she turns to the Big Bad for a bit of comfort after...?" He swallowed heavily and swung his axe. "Come on. Let's go."

"After?" Gus asked. "After what? Come on, I'm not from around here, and you know how much I love a good bit of gossip."

"Well, you can get it from someone else," Spike shot back, following the girls toward the entrance to the main street.

"Your funeral," Gus muttered, falling into step beside him. As they were about to round the corner of the shop, he grabbed Spike's arm and pulled him to a stop. "Look, all kidding aside, you're doing me a favor, so let me give you a bit of free advice. That's the Slayer you're messing around with, the Death Dealer. She's bad news. A little mutual world saving is one thing, but...do you have a death wish? Is that it?"

Spike loosened his arm and laughed humorlessly. "Guess we all do, when it comes right down with it. We all dance with death."

Gus sighed heavily. "I just think this is dangerous. I know what a soft touch you are when it comes to the ladies. Do you really think something like this will last?"

Spike glanced over at the alley mouth, his gaze softening at the sight of Buffy silhouetted against the bright glow of the street lamps beyond. "No," he said quietly. "But what a lovely way to burn."

**********

The main street of Sunnydale was fairly quiet for a Friday evening, which could have been a result of the light mist of rain that had started to fall as they exited the alley. Dawn cringed and turned up the collar of her shirt, but Buffy didn't seem to notice.

"How far do we have to go?" she asked. "And how many demons are we expecting?"

"As far as how many," Gus said, "I don't think more than six or eight." He turned and started walking down the street, and Buffy quickly moved to catch up with him. "At least, those are the most recent numbers I have. I've been tracking this group across a dozen states now, and I think they've managed to reduce their own numbers a bit."

"Fun," Willow said dryly, and Gus shrugged.

"Well, when you're hopped up on the Water like they are, things can get ugly fast. Did I mention the paranoia? You also have to take into account the munchies from hell, and I mean that literally. When there's nothing else around to snack on, they'll turn on each other." Willow looked like she was about to be sick, but Dawn's eyes were glazed over with fascination, which both amused and disconcerted Spike. "Hey, it's the main reason why their group has never been able to make a serious dent in Haldar society," Gus continued. "Given enough time, they usually just end up killing each other off, which is always the least messy solution. Normally I'd just wait for that to happen, but...."

"The Hellmouth," Buffy said grimly. "We can't wait around this time."

"Exactly. So that's the 'how many'. As far as the 'where'...." He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and gestured to the other side of the street. "In there."

The group stood frozen on the sidewalk for a moment, the weapons (and Gus) attracting stares from the few passersby. Buffy blinked in confusion.

"The Espresso Pump?" she asked. "Why would they be...." She broke off, her mouth twitching slightly. "Let me get this straight," she said carefully. "The Water of Life is... _coffee_?"

Gus sighed rapturously, turning his face to the heavens and inhaling as if he could scent the roasted beans from across the street. "Yes," he said reverently, giving a slight genuflection of respect. Dawn let out a sharp giggle before clapping her hand over her mouth, grunting when Buffy elbowed her in the side.

"Wow," Willow said faintly. "I mean, I've heard of needing your caffeine, but...."

Gus shrugged serenely. "It isn't actually the caffeine that's important, although most of us consider decaf to be a form of heresy." He shuddered slightly before continuing. "I told you that it didn't have the same effect on humans."

"I don't know," Willow said. "I had this one chemistry professor who turned into a monster when he didn't get his morning fix. And...coffee! I mean, it's everywhere. It's not like you have to go out of your way to find it. It's not like making a secret potion out of impossible-to-find ingredients. Not," she said quickly, catching Buffy's eye, "that I do that. Any more. But how do you deal with seeing it around all the time?"

"Honestly?" Gus said. "I don't usually spend a lot of time with humans. But besides that, it's just a matter of accepting and mastering the cravings when they arise. It's not something that just goes away."

"Oh!" Willow said, her eyes lighting up. "And how does that work, exactly? Do you have meetings, or just..."

"Will," Buffy broke in gently. "Maybe compare notes later? World to save, and all that." Willow grinned sheepishly and nodded. "Okay, we need a plan," Buffy continued, peering into the shop across the road. "Are you sure they're there? Because I can't see anything out of the ordinary."

"They're there," Gus assured her. "Is there a basement, or a back room? The more deserted the better. They'd probably be in there."

"Well, I know they've got an employee room right behind the bar," Dawn said. "And if they're anything like the Magic Box, they've probably got a basement too."

"Maybe come at them from the back?" Spike suggested, and Buffy nodded.

"That's probably best. I know there's another entrance behind the store, and I'm guessing they're probably in the basement." She hefted her sword and looked over the group. "Okay, here's the plan. Spike and Gus will take the back door, I'll take the front. Willow, I want you and Dawn to go in there right before we do and find some way to get rid of everyone. If this is going to get messy, I don't want any innocent humans to get in the way. We need to clear the place out before we start with the slicing and dicing. Is that okay?" Willow glanced at Dawn, and the two of them nodded. "When you're done, get clear," Buffy said firmly. "Remember what I said."

"Will do," Willow said with a little salute. Jogging Dawn's elbow, she stepped into the street. "Ready to cause a little mayhem?" Dawn rolled her eyes and followed.

"I mean it," Buffy threatened, turning to Gus. "Any humans get hurt, and I'm going to use your skin for a new leather coat. Is that clear?"

"Absolutely," Gus assured her, turning a bit pale beneath the purple.

"Okay," Buffy said. "Let's do this Wait for the signal." She turned away, paused, then turned her head back to Spike. "Be careful," she said, and then she was gone.

"I guess that's it," Spike said, quirking a grin at Gus. "Ready to go save the world?"

**********

Spike cracked the rear door ajar and peered through the opening into the back of the Espresso Pump, Gus hovering over one shoulder and blinking like an oversized owl. "Can you see anything?" he asked in a low voice.

Spike shook his head. "Not yet," he said, craning his neck to try to see around a large box of paper cups.

"She said to wait for the signal," Gus whispered. "What's the signal?"

He was interrupted by a loud shriek. Spike straightened up and grinned. "I guess that would be it," he said.

He pushed the door open wider, and together they watched Willow and Dawn standing in front of the counter and pointing at the back wall. "Roaches!" Willow screamed, her finger shaking and her voice quavering. "Cockroaches! Dozens of them! Can't you see them?"

All heads turned to where the two girls were standing. The man behind the counter shook his head his head in angry denial and started to speak, but Dawn let out a shriek that veered upward into the supersonic. Spike winced.

"I see them!" she screeched. "They're all over the place!" She pointed a finger at a group of confused patrons clustered around a table, all of whom began to frantically switch their heads back and forth and brush their hands over their clothes. All of the customers were now in full-on twitch mode, caught between confusion and outright paranoia. Another woman let out a scream.

"Oh, God!" she whimpered. "I saw something move! They're right!"

And that was that. Spike smiled in satisfaction as all of the customers began to grab for their jackets and bags, piling out of the store in a mad rush. The poor man behind the counter was the last to leave. "But...I don't see anything!" he wailed before giving up and running out the shop as well. Silence reigned for a brief moment. Dawn and Willow exchanged a satisfied nod as Buffy ran in through the front door and Spike and Gus entered through the rear.

"Nice work," Spike said approvingly. "What was that, a glamour? Make them all see lots of little nasties?"

"Nope," Willow said proudly, popping the 'p'. "Just good old-fashioned group psychology. Make them think something's really there, and they'll start to see it. All we needed was for one person to join in, and boom! Like a row of dominoes. I knew Professor Walsh's class would pay off one day."

Buffy grinned. "And for once, her legacy is used for good instead of evil." Looking at Dawn, she sobered quickly. "Now you two, out. I don't want you here if this goes bad."

Dawn rolled her eyes sullenly. "Right, kick us out just as the good stuff starts." She stormed out the door, and Willow followed with an apologetic shrug.

"Mood swings much?" Buffy muttered. "Can fifteen-year-olds get menopause?" Shaking her head, she led Spike and Gus to the door to the basement storeroom and eased it open. The sound of a muttered curse rolled out, followed by a few high-pitched giggles and a string of syllables in a language Spike had never heard before.

"That's them," Gus sighed, "and high as a kite from the sound of it."

"Okay," Buffy breathed, gripping her sword tightly and hefting it over her head. Spike grabbed his axe and stretched his neck to the side, cracking his muscles and letting his true face come to the front. He could hear the increase in Buffy's heartbeat, see the way her eyes dilated, and immediately he was simultaneously aroused and ready for the fight of his life. If the shine in Buffy's eyes was anything to go by, she was feeling the same way. "On my count," she whispered, exchanging a grin with him. "Three...two...one!" And she plunged down the stairs, letting Spike follow with a loud roar.

_Game on._

**********

The basement was almost completely dark, a few of flickering candles illuminating the central part of the vast space. Spike could see a few huddled shapes crowded around a small table on the other side of the room, and they looked up as he, Buffy and Gus tumbled down the steps. The scent of roasted coffee beans was overpowering, and Spike felt the inexplicable urge to sneeze.

"Hey, guys!" Buffy said brightly, raising her sword. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that stuff will stunt your growth?" She took a few casual steps forward, but Spike noticed that she was eyeing the dark corners carefully.

The room was silent for a moment, and then one of the Haldar let out a croaking laugh and stepped out of the shadows. She -- and Spike was just guessing at the "she" part --stood almost eight feet tall, her bright yellow skin glowing in the light of the candles. She was clutching a cardboard cup in one massive hand, its contents spilling slightly from the tremors that shook her body.

"Not welcome," she snarled. "Mine!" Raising the cup to her mouth, she drained it in one gulp and tossed its crumpled carcass aside.

"Real conversationalist," Spike mused, studying the dozens of crushed cups that littered the floor. "And here I was worried they'd want to sit down and have a nice talk."

Gus stepped forward, sniffing the air. "Take it easy," he rumbled, his voice shaking slightly. Even in the dim light, Spike was able to notice that the demon's eyes were dilated, and he glanced at Buffy in alarm. She gripped her sword more tightly, easing closer to Gus.

"You okay?" she asked quietly. At Gus's distracted nod, she hardened her voice. "Be sure. If you're going to have any problems with this...."

"I'm fine," Gus said shortly, eyeing the group of Haldar across the room. "Put the Blessed Beverage down," he ordered in a commanding voice.

"Yeah," Spike couldn't resist adding, snickering slightly. "Or we'll release the Holy Hand Grenade." Buffy was giving him a completely blank look, and his face fell slightly. "No respect for the classics," he muttered.

"You're not helping," she hissed.

"Well, neither is he," Spike insisted, pointing to where Gus was standing slack-jawed in the middle of the room, drooling visibly.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's it." She cleared her throat and raised her voice. "Drop the coffee, and no one gets hurt," she called. "Much."

The only answer was a one-pound bag of coffee beans that came sailing out of the shadows and struck Spike on the shoulder before he could duck. A second bag beaned Gus in the head, making him blink his eyes rapidly as if awakening from a long sleep. A third came straight for Buffy, but with a quick twist of her wrist she gracefully slashed it with her sword before it could hit her. The vacuum pack burst open, beans spilling all over the floor in a sharp rattle, and Spike heard Gus inhale a sharp breath. There was a moment of frozen silence, and then the rest of the Haldar let out a chorus of howls. Buffy winced.

"I think you got their attention," Spike muttered, and then the battle was on them.

The Haldar may have been tweaked out on their own personal joy juice, but it didn't seem to have affected their fighting skills. Three of them rushed Gus, and another three headed for Spike and Buffy. Spike leaped on two of them with a howl, leaving Buffy to take on the last one by herself. In retrospect it wasn't the best of ideas, given that the Haldar were almost half again his size and more than twice his body weight. One of them cuffed him across the face, making his head ring, and the other caught him around the ribs and squeezed. He gritted his teeth and kicked out with his heavy boots, smashing the first one in the kneecap. The demon only roared in anger, gripping his neck with a meaty hand.

"Not too bright are you?" Spike ground out, struggling to free himself. "Don't have to breathe!" The Haldar only growled and squeezed his neck tighter, making Spike groan in agony. _Perfect._ The whole not-breathing thing would come in very handy when the Haldar snapped his neck in two and popped his head like a grape. It was worthwhile contemplating whether insulting them any more would help. After all, it didn't seem like things could get any worse. Spike was opening his mouth to speculate impolitely about their heritage and personal hygiene when the iron bands around his ribs suddenly loosened. He managed to crane his neck enough to see that the Haldar behind him had just had his head separated from his body, compliments of a nicely sweaty Buffy.

"Hey!" she called. "Were you looking for this?" She held up a bag of the coffee beans, squeezing it lightly to make the beans crunch together. "Now, would you care for our complimentary grind?"

The Haldar dropped Spike, making him groan and rub his neck in relief. From his position on the floor, he saw the demon make a wild grab for Buffy. She ducked aside, tossing the bag in the air as she did so, and Spike noticed that it had already been sliced open across the side. The beans cascaded onto the floor right underneath the feet of the Haldar. It skidded on the bean-covered concrete floor and went down hard. Without missing a beat, Spike caught up his dropped axe and brought it down across the demon's neck.

"Yeah! he gasped, watching the head bounce across the floor. "That's the way we..."

The head rolled into a crate that was supporting several lit candles, knocking them over and plunging the room into darkness.

"Uh...oops," Spike said, then blinked. "Wait a minute, do you see...?"

"Yeah," Buffy said breathlessly. "I see it."

The room wasn't completely dark after all. There was a faint reddish glow coming from the Haldar who were still fighting Gus. As he and Buffy watched, the ground trembled and he saw the air shimmer and roil.

"The Hellmouth," Buffy said grimly. "We have to finish this _now_!" She rushed across to help Gus, who was looking a little worse for the wear. Spike was about to follow when he caught sight of two more demons huddled together in front of what looked like a large cappuccino machine. The were muttering under their breaths and frantically pushing buttons. One of them, too impatient to find a new cup, caught the scalding hot coffee in his cupped hands as it came pouring out. He raised his hands and drank the brew down, letting out a chortle of glee. The rumble in the earth increased, and a bright crack opened up in the air directly above the machine.

"Buffy!" Spike yelled, charging for the two demons. He heard a loud roaring in his ears, and he wasn't sure whether it was himself, the Haldar, or the Hellmouth that was making the noise. _Too many choices._ He settled for smashing the cappuccino maker with his axe, wincing when a heavy blow landed on his head. "Mind the head!" he spat through clenched teeth. At this rate he'd get himself knocked out, and that wouldn't be good for anyone. The two Haldar piled on top of him, shrieking with anger, and the louder they yelled the brighter the light seemed to get. The shaking in the earth felt strong enough to rip his bones apart. He managed to get enough leverage to twist off the head of one of the demons, letting out a yell when the other one bit into his shoulder with a grip like a pit bull's. He brought the axe down across its back, hacking at whatever body part he could find and almost not caring if he managed to hurt himself in the process. He stopped only when he felt blood dripping through his fingers and noticed that the Haldar's teeth had loosened in his shoulder.

Spike was about to congratulate himself on his cleverness and ingenuity when he noticed that Buffy had just thrust her sword through a demon not three feet from where he was lying. The creature swayed on its feet for a moment, and then of course, _of course_ , came tumbling down right on top of him and the Haldar that already lay atop him. Spike had just enough time to throw his hands up in from of his face when there was a heavy thud and the world went dark.

**********

Even before Spike opened his eyes, he noticed that the earth had stopped shaking. This was either very good -- they'd won -- or very bad -- he was dead. When he cracked his eyes open and saw Buffy sleeping next to him, he was tempted to go with the we-saved-the-world scenario. What he saw was too close to heaven, and he knew that that was the least likely place he'd wind up when he finally shuffled off the immortal coil.

He must have made a noise, because Buffy opened her eyes and turned to look at him. "Hey, you're up," she said, her voice gravelly with sleep.

"So are you," he murmured. He lay there and basked in her presence for a moment before he frowned and took a closer look at exactly where they were. "Pet," he said, "not that I'm complaining, but how did we end up back in my crypt?"

Buffy raised her head to look around, then flopped back down on the pillow. Not only were they in his crypt, he noticed, but they had somehow made it to his bed in the lower level. "Oh," she said matter-of-factly. "Gus carried you."

"Not that I'm not grateful, but there's a memory I'm glad to have missed," Spike muttered. "I take it we won, then?"

Buffy nodded and yawned, her nose scrunching adorably. Spike would have rolled over and kissed the tiny wrinkles if he'd had the slightest bit of energy. "We won," she said. "After you took out their power focus thingy..."

"What's that?" he interrupted.

"The cappuccino machine," Buffy said wryly. "Apparently that's where all their mental focus was, and so it created some kind of mystical connection to the Hellmouth, which opened...you know what? I don't really get the details, and at the moment I don't care. The point is, once the machine was down the rift stopped getting any bigger, and when the rest of the Haldar were dead it closed back up. Town no go boom, at least not today. Of course, you kind of missed it, being squished and everything."

"So that's it," he mused. "Crisis averted, town saved, world safe for all the good little kiddies once again."

"Oh, and even better!" Buffy said. "I talked to Jason afterward..."

"Jason?"

"The guy who was working the counter at the Espresso Pump," she clarified. "He's the manager. Anyway, he was so grateful that he gave me a coupon for free lattes for a month. Also, he said that they're not hiring right now, but that the next position that opens up is definitely mine. I figure it can't be worse than the Doublemeat Palace."

Spike snorted out a laugh, trying to roll onto his side and wincing at the effort. Buffy gently pushed him onto his back again.

"Careful," she said. "I think you broke some ribs, and you should see the lump on your head."

"Yeah," he said faintly. "I noticed." He blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then frowned. "Where'd Gus go?"

"He left," Buffy said, "after he brought you back. I think he was feeling a bit weird."

"Ah. Feeling the pull of the demon bean, was he?"

"Something like that," Buffy said with a grin. "He told me to tell you thank you, and that you were even now. Before he left I made him scrounge up some food for me and some blood for you. They're in the fridge upstairs."

"Hmm," Spike purred. "I like a woman who knows how to plan. And speaking of which...." Something had been tickling his brain for the last few minutes, and he'd just figured out what it was. "You're in my bed," he pointed out. "And you're naked."

"Wow," Buffy said dryly. "Took you long enough. You must have hit your head harder than I thought."

Spike peeked under the sheet. Yup, definitely naked. "And so am I," he observed.

Buffy shrugged innocently. "We were covered in blood and guts. I couldn't let us get all of that crap on the sheets, could I?" She scooted over next to him, laying her hand on his stomach. Spike moaned at the feel of her warm breasts pressing into his side. "I called Willow and Dawn," she murmured, dropping a soft kiss on the skin below his ear. "I told them I had some follow-up stuff to do and would see them later."

"Is that right?" Spike cleared his throat as his voice jumped an octave, and he shivered in delight at the feel of Buffy's warm tongue playing with his earlobe. He started to raise his hand to pull her on top of him, then winced again at the ache in his ribs. Buffy gently but firmly pushed his hand back to his side and held it there, her fingers curled around his wrist. "I thought I was the evil one," he moaned. "You're only doing this because I'm too sore to give it right back to you."

"Maybe," Buffy said with a sultry smile. She let go of Spike's wrist and trailed her fingers softly up his chest, pinching lightly at his nipples. "Or maybe I just want to remind you of one good reason to get better as quickly as possible," she breathed. She tasted his mouth slowly and thoroughly for a long minute, then lay back down next to him with a contented sigh. 

Spike hummed in satisfaction, soaking up the warmth she was giving off. "Well, that's all right then," he said sleepily. He wanted to stay awake as long as possible to revel in the feel of Buffy lying next to him, but his eyes wouldn't stay open. "Will you stay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," Buffy said. Her voice sounded as sleepy as his. "Too tired to move. Besides, you owe me."

"How's that?" Spike asked. His eyes were already closed, but he could feel Buffy's smile.

"Next time it's my turn to try out the chair."


End file.
